


Gonna leave you all severed

by Thornofthelily



Series: Top Goro Week 2021 [7]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Consensual Cuckoldry, Degradation, Desk Sex, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Post canon, Prostitution, Sex Work, Slut Shaming, Smoking, Spanking, Top!Goro, bottom!ren, slutakiren supremacy, top goro week 2021, top!mishima, yeah that's right you heard me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29101053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thornofthelily/pseuds/Thornofthelily
Summary: Amamiya’s smile cuts. “Come on, Mishima-kun. I’m dressed like this. Standing on a street corner. In the red-light district. What were you thinking I was doing?”Mishima can’t, won’t, refuses to comprehend. Sure, he… he came out here looking for… but not for… not for men. Not for Amamiya. So, he’s…? He’s?Now Amamiya is sliding his whole hand against Mishima’s cheek, and he trembles under that warm, sure touch. “So, how about it? You don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone.” He winks and Mishima’s knees buckle. “I’ll even let you have it for free. Special rate for old friends.”
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Amamiya Ren/Mishima Yuuki, Kurusu Akira/Mishima Yuuki, Mishima Yuuki/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Top Goro Week 2021 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2125152
Comments: 3
Kudos: 75
Collections: TopGoroWeek #1 2021





	Gonna leave you all severed

**Author's Note:**

> Title from a song by The Decemberists: Severed  
> Top Goro Week day 7: Prostitution
> 
> Thank you to my friend [Kib](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kibetha/pseuds/Kibetha) for betaing! 
> 
> Just a heads up, this does start with Mishima and Ren, but trust me, there's some good sweet Akeshu content in here too.

Mishima Yuuki anxiously fiddles with the strap of the bag over his shoulder. Last time he was in Shinjuku was high school, when Amamiya set him up with that… no, didn’t even set him up, let him _think_ he set him up with a hot older woman. And she was just some crazy, drunk reporter lady who thought it was an interview! It wasn’t a date at all, and Amamiya knew that, and he still let him think…

Anyway.

Anyway, Mishima hadn’t been back to Shinjuku since then. High school. He’s always been told it’s a scary place for adults, and despite his nagging desires to be seen as cool and mature, he still never really wanted to break the rules. Always too skittish. Always too afraid of consequences.

But now he _is_ an adult, damn the rules. He belongs here now! And he’s finally, _finally_ going to lose his V-card, come hell or high water!

The gap between getting his degree and finding a job is the best chance to really fool around and expand his horizons. Sure, he… technically could have done that in school, after landing in a halfway decent university and getting a respectable computer science degree. But like always, he had been too afraid of consequences. Too afraid of breaking the unknown rules in this new setting. His department had been mostly dudes, anyway, so. And computer science might land him a decent job in some company’s IT department, but no girls fawn over computer geeks like they do the lawyers and the doctors and the business school guys.

Argh, Mishima ruffles his hair with both hands, trying to physically shake his thoughts back in order. He’s not here to feel sorry for himself! He’s here to _get some action!_ And the red-light district is just the place! Except… of course, he’s not sure where to start. Men in slick suits and greasy hair styles wave ads in his face for clubs with glossy pictures on the front, a lot of them in cosplay because he must just _scream_ otaku (and so what if he recognizes a lot of the characters? That’s not the point). But nothing really seems… what he’s looking for. He’s not really sure what he’s looking for, he realizes glumly. Women lining the streets in skimpy clothes, he supposes, asking who’s willing to pay for a good time. But of course, no one is that obvious.

When he rounds a corner, though, he sees a familiar face, leaning their body against the side of a building, and Mishima stops dead in his tracks. He hadn’t seen Amamiya since their second year in high school, and then he vanished, sent away back to his home town. They chatted off and on sometimes, but Ren wasn’t a Phantom Thief anymore. He didn’t say why. But without that connection, Mishima’s flimsy excuse to share his limelight faded, and they had little to talk about. Still, there’s no mistaking that ever-clumsy mop of black hair and dark, brooding eyes. A flush creeps over his cheeks. No, he did _not_ just think of Amamiya as brooding. Especially not sexy brooding.

Though, his outfit certainly looks different from anything he’s seen Amamiya wear. And sure, he mostly saw him when they had to wear uniforms, but he’s never seen him look like _this._ Tight leather pants that clung to long legs, shiny and reflecting the pinks and golds of the lights around him. A red mesh crop top that already left little to the imagination, then revealed even more through fashionable gaps and tears in the fabric. A cigarette dangles between black-painted fingernails. He’s not looking at Mishima, staring absently down the street like he’s waiting for someone, looking for all the world like someone’s raver-themed wet dream.

Not Mishima’s wet dream. Someone’s though, certainly.

He swallows hard. Amamiya had seemed rugged back in school, mischievous and mysterious, but always so, so cool. He’d looked up to him, like a hero. And that was _all_ he _swears_. He never stayed up late on the forums reading weird dirty posts about the Phantom Thieves; he just deleted the inappropriate ones. And he certainly never thought, behind closed doors, about that time Amamiya helped him stand up to those thugs hurting Akiyama-kun, imagining other scenarios where Amamiya got to save _him_ instead, and...

Mishima swallows hard. Okay, so maybe during Operation Maidwatch, he was… kind of curious to see what Amamiya would do with the maid. On a technical level. If things had gone down differently… maybe he would have wanted to watch. Just as a learning experience!

He’s been standing here stupidly, staring at Amamiya, suddenly grown into an even cooler, tougher-looking thug than he ever managed in school. And without those big round glasses on his face, Mishima really notices the sharp gleam of his dark eyes, the cutting light as he slowly scans the alley behind him. And he’s so transfixed by Amamiya’s sheer presence that he forgets that _he’s_ also in this alley, and when those eyes land on him, they shoot right through his stomach and leave something warm and glowing behind.

Amamiya blinks and smiles. “Is that you, Mishima-kun?”

Another hard swallow. Even his voice… deep, low, mature. Mishima steels himself, wanting to show that he’s grown too, but his voice still cracks when he squeaks out, “Amamiya! It’s good – good to see you!”

Amamiya quickly snuffs out his cigarette on the wall behind him and kicks off from his casual lean. Mishima fists both hands into the strap of his bag as Amamiya approaches, a cloud of perfumed air reaching him first. Something nutty, like almonds in a warm freshly-baked dessert. _Or like_ _cyanide_ _,_ his mind supplies wildly.

He stops just a few feet away, a respectable distance, but it still feels too close. Somehow, he manages to fit his hands in the pockets of his way-too-tight pants. “So… what are you doing in this part of Shinjuku?” Amamiya asks with a knowing smirk.

Mishima hopes the darkness hides his furious blush. By the quirking of Amamiya’s eyebrows, he highly doubts it. “I was, uhh, I just got my degree,” he says, like that answers anything. The rest of the sentence trips over itself in his head, trying to rearrange itself into something that’s not _and I’m looking to get laid_ because, oh man, that seems like the wrong thing to say to Amamiya right now.

“So.. you’re here to have a good time?” His mouth twitches into a smirk. Is he standing a little taller? Normally he slouches so much, but now he seems really, really tall.

“S-sort of, yeah,” he admits sheepishly. Amamiya’s eyes catch the red glint of a police car’s spinning lights as it drives past.

“All alone?”

The question comes out so sweet, almost innocent, except Amamiya’s taken one more step closer, too close for just chatting with your high school friend. Mishima actually has to tilt his head up slightly to look at him. Maybe it’s the imposing presence, his old crush (not a crush, he quickly corrects, hero-worship, fine, but never crush), or the energy of the red-light district, but Mishima manages to say, “I wasn’t intending on staying alone.”

Instantly, he claps his hands over his mouth, eyes widening. Shit! Amamiya’s eyebrows vanish into his hairline, jaw actually hanging open a little. The worst thing he could have said to Amamiya, and he said it! Amamiya, all cool and – and sexy-looking and – and smelling so good and looking really good and sounding _completely_ cool, he’s definitely grossing him out. Stupid, weak, zero Mishima, why did he even come here –

“Oh, really now?” And now Amamiya is most definitely invading his personal space, two steps closer, so close he can almost feel the heat radiating off his ( _almost bare, very visible_ ) chest. Mishima wants to put his hands up to slow him down, wait a second, let his brain catch up, but realizes that would likely place his hands _on_ Amamiya and he’s not sure he can handle that right now. Knowing his face is glowing like a beacon, he grips his bag even tighter, the straps squeaking and straining. Tries to stutter out something, but his mouth gapes soundlessly. Amamiya’s finger touches under his chin, lifting his head so he has to meet his dark, dark eyes. “You know. I was thinking the same.”

“The… same?”

Amamiya’s smile _cuts._ “Come on, Mishima-kun. I’m dressed like this. Standing on a street corner. In the red-light district. What were you thinking I was doing?”

Mishima can’t, won’t, refuses to comprehend. Sure, he… he came out here looking for… but not for… not for _men._ Not for _Amamiya._ So, he’s…? He’s?

Now Amamiya is sliding his whole hand against Mishima’s cheek, and he trembles under that warm, sure touch. “So, how about it? You don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone.” He winks and Mishima’s knees buckle. “I’ll even let you have it for free. Special rate for old friends.”

Holy shit, he has _rates._ Holy shit. This is moving so fast, too fast. He’d read about how to talk with… they called them sex workers, right, more polite, less offensive, and he doesn’t want to be offensive. But not when it was an old friend, not when he’s gently taking his hand with an encouraging smile and leading him away, and his head swims, his feet follow hopelessly.

“Ah… Amamiya,” and he has to try three times before his voice is audible over the din of the city. “Amamiya?”

“Please,” he says, stroking his long fingers over his wrist. “Call me Ren. And can I call you Yuuki?”

 _Yuuki_. He draws in a sharp breath. “Yeah… yeah that’s fine.” Wait, what was he talking about? Right, right, Amamiya – Ren is – he’s… okay. “Are you… is this?” Shit, why can’t he just have ONE coherent thought right now? Where have all his brain cells gone? Ren smiles and squeezes his hand encouragingly.

“You mean, we’re going to… where are we going?” There, a reasonable, cogent thought, at last.

“My apartment, of course.”

Sweat builds on the back of Mishima’s neck, and he wants to wipe it away, but then he’d have sweaty hands. And Ren is holding one of them anyway, so. “To… to do…?”

Biting his lip, Ren looks like he’s holding back a laugh. “Yes. To _do._ ” The emphasis on that word sends a shiver of heat down his spine. Okay. Okay yeah. So they’re really…

“It’s my first time,” he squeaks out, and he hates his stupid impulsive mouth. For the second time in just a few minutes, Ren looks caught off-guard, stopping for a moment to stare at him in wonder. For a terrifying second, Mishima fears that he might have scared Ren off, but his expression softens, and he looks almost sweet.

“Is it? I’m glad it can be with a friend, not someone you found randomly in the street. Even better.” And Ren’s tugging on him harder, leading him to the train station, and the realization he’ll be sitting next to Ren on public transit waiting to go to his apartment and _have sex with him_ leaves him floating about six inches off the ground.

The train ride couldn’t be more awkward. He probably feels more awkward than Ren, but what else is new? They’re quiet the whole time, polite, Ren not holding his hand or doing anything but sitting next to him. They might not even know each other. And though Mishima wants to ask about what happened after their second year, how Ren ended up… like this, he’s not sure he should. It seems… personal? And Ren always had things he didn’t tell Mishima. A deep, secret, private life that Mishima only ever peered at through frosted glass, desperate to get inside.

Wait, no not like… ugh. Mishima fusses with his hair again, trying to keep himself grounded. Okay. Sex. With Ren. Wait. _Wait_. Sex with REN. How do two guys have sex with each other?! Is he going to have to…? Oh no.

Mishima doesn’t stand right away when the train sways to a stop, and Ren has to encourage him with a little tug on his elbow. Oh, he’s not feeling good right now. What if Ren expects him to do... stuff? To let Ren… do stuff to him? Back in school, he remembers the cut of his eyes, twinkling with laughter as he teased him just a little. At least he was never mean; plenty of other people were mean to Mishima. So maybe Ren will be nice. There has to be something good about being on the receiving end, right? Otherwise no one would ever do it!

Ren keeps holding his hand as he walks him through the narrow side streets, a twisting labyrinth of squashed buildings and teeny tiny little shops. His hand feels nice. Mishima’s very concerned about the sweatiness of his palm, worried Ren will slip from his grasp and he’ll just be gone forever. Which is dumb because it’s not like… not like he was looking to be with Ren _specifically_ , it just… happened, and he’s going along with it because, right, it’s better if it’s someone he knows. A stranger could be dangerous. Ren will… Ren always stood up for him, right? That’s why… Mishima always admired him. Liked him.

Yeah, yeah maybe this will be okay.

Ren pulls him up a flight of stairs, opens a door, and Mishima’s standing in the genkan, and Ren’s kicking off his cool boots with their shiny buckles and waving Mishima in deeper, and he almost trips over himself getting his house slippers on.

Is it… the bedroom? Already? They’re just going right into… does he need to, like, _do_ anything or…

But actually, passing through a small living space, Ren banks right and slides open a door. “In here,” he encourages with a beckoning wave of his hand, flicking on the lights.

It’s… an office. Or rather, it probably would have been a bedroom, but instead of a bed there’s a desk at the far wall, a very nice desk with a closed laptop on top, with a hutch stuffed full of papers and a filing cabinet attached to the side, securely shut. The wall opposite the desk is a closet, presumably, just a closed door with shuttered slats. And that’s basically it. Nothing on the walls, no pictures on the desk. Nothing personal.

“In… here? We’re going to… here?” Mishima hates how unsure he sounds. He’s not sure if it would be better or worse if he were with a stranger. Maybe Ren’s familiarity is making it worse, or maybe anyone else would make this way weirder. Impossible to know. “So, uh, where do we…?”

“Expecting a bedroom?” Ren teases behind him, shutting the door. Mishima jumps a little. Is it normal to feel this sweaty? His heart pulses loudly in his head.

“Yeah, uhh, kind of?”

“Sorry. I keep my personal and business life separated.”

Glancing around the sparse, spartan office, Mishima wonders if _he_ counts as business or personal. Lacking anything else to do, Mishima swings his arms, keeping Ren at his back. Now he _really_ doesn’t know where to go next. “So… where do we –”

And gets immediately interrupted by Ren asking “Did you bring condoms?”

He chokes on the rest of his sentence, tries unsuccessfully to cover it with coughs. Okay, maybe he’s business, with how straightforward Ren is. But he actually thinks he has the right answer this time. “Yeah, yeah I did, they’re in my bag, hang on.” He starts to dig into the satchel heavy on his hip and then Ren is there, gently slipping it off his shoulder and tossing it against the door.

“You won’t need them.” And his _voice._ Ren always had a fairly deep voice but just then, it went down maybe a whole octave (he never actually studied music, but that sounds right). _So deep!_ Guttural and throaty and low and _right_ against his ear, to where his breath tickled the sensitive skin and made all the hairs on his body stand up.

“R-Ren?” By contrast, Mishima’s own voice goes high and pitchy, obviously nervous. Ren, cool, sexy Ren, always cool and composed and in control... Ren cups the back of Mishima’s neck, firmly but kindly shifting angles until they’re face-to-face, so close Mishima can count his thick eyelashes, can see for the first time subtle lines of makeup outlining his eyes, darkening his lips. Shit.

“Yes, Yuuki?” Ren’s voice is so sweet as his other hand traces the line of his jaw, those intense black eyes roving over him like a delicious treat.

He can’t believe Ren, a _guy_ , is doing all this to him, but he has to admit how warm his cheeks are, the desperate pitter-patter of his heart, the weakness in his knees, all for the coolest person he’s ever met, his hero. “C-can I kiss you?”

Ren’s thumb pauses under the swell of his bottom lip, a single sharp canine nipping his own mouth briefly before he smiles invitingly. “Sure, go right ahead.”

He’s at least _kissed_ before, a couple of times. This isn’t so weird. So he squeezes his eyes shut and clumsily fits his mouth over Ren’s, pressing hard against the warm seam until he feels the hardness of the teeth beneath. The hand on his neck moves to his shoulder and gently pushes him back. Mortified, Mishima yanks away, blinking rapidly, an apology already halfway formed before Ren presses the pad of his thumb to his lips again.

“You really don’t have much experience, do you?” Though he expects the tone to be mocking, Ren has nothing but kindness in his eyes. Mishima shakes his head no, dejected that Ren sensed that so quickly in just one kiss. “Don’t worry,” Ren lilts, a bit of wickedness creeping in. “I’ll show you a great time. Just follow my lead.”

When Ren leans in and kisses him, it’s so much different than Mishima’s fumbling few attempts throughout his life. This time, it’s slow, deliberate, fitting perfectly between Mishima’s lips with plush warmth, enough pressure to feel him but distant enough to keep him wanting. The hand on his face slots under his chin, tilting him up just a breath more, and the way Mishima has to lean back a little to reach Ren’s face, how he seems to tower over him, the sweet perfect melding of mouths… it all melts Mishima’s bones, and he sags into Ren’s arms. He has to catch Mishima around the waist to keep him upright.

“Good?” Ren coos, a laugh hiding somewhere in his voice.

Mishima just nods breathlessly. If just one kiss makes him almost pass out, what’s going to happen when he has to… you know. Take it up there?

Ren licks the side of his face and Mishima bolts three feet in the air, that hidden laugh finally erupting out of Ren. “You’re cute.” Somehow, that’s the most embarrassing thing that’s happened so far, and his head droops. For some reason, he feels like apologizing.

“I’m going to suck your dick now.”

The… the noise he makes can’t have been good for him. Ren goes to his knees without pause, undoing Mishima’s belt and yanking down his pants, and Mishima sways, trying to stay standing as all his blood suddenly pools in his crotch. Staring at Ren, his whole chest goes tight and painful and… and what if he just has a heart attack right here? Just straight up _dies_ , a virgin, so horny for his friend that his heart just freaking explodes! Argh, no, shut up, shut up, try to focus, Ren is _looking at your dick right now_ and yeah, Ren slips his hand into the slit in his boxers and experimentally wraps those painted nails around his penis and slowly pumps it to full hardness, growing full so fast Mishima gets a little dizzy. Then, like it’s nothing, Ren pops his erection out through his underwear and wraps his lips around him.

“Mmph!” he squeaks, covering his mouth. First, he closes his eyes, then decides he’d rather watch, then watching is too embarrassing so he closes them again and that makes the _sensation_ of warm wet tight hot _mouth_ around his cock so much more intense. And it only lasts a second, because then Ren lets him go and looks at him until Mishima cracks open an eyelid, and Ren smiles up at him.

“No one else is here,” Ren says in a calm, soothing voice. “There’s no need to hide your voice. I want to hear how good I make you feel. Can you do that for me?” Nodding frantically, it still takes a force of will to put his hands down in fists at his sides. “Good boy,” Ren purrs, and _those words_ plus the return of Ren’s mouth make him moan obscenely. Ren hums around his cock encouragingly, and the vibrations shoot up his spine and turn his knees into overcooked soggy ramen.

It feels… better than he could have ever imagined. Ren slides effortlessly up and down the whole length of his shaft, dipping deeper and deeper each time until he swallows him to the root without even a sputter or gasp, like he was made for this. Mishima stares at him in wonder, now completely unable to look away from the gorgeous sight of Ren’s messy hair, beautiful black eyes framed by even darker lashes fluttering as he stares up at him. Ren does something with his tongue, pressing up along the underside, near the cleft at the head, and Mishima moans, low and shaky, unexpected.

“Ren,” he croaks. This is so – so much, so wonderful, so unexpected, he has to tell Ren, just how much, what this means. “Ren this feels so – you’re so… _mhhmm_!” When Ren hollows his cheeks and sucks _hard_ Mishima can’t finish his sentence, can’t even remember what he was going to say. Instinctively, his hands jerk up from his sides to grab for Ren, but he stops himself, not sure if that’s okay. Of course, Ren notices. Without slowing his mouth, Ren reaches up and grabs Mishima’s hands and places them against his hair. It feels… softer than he expected. Ren’s hair has always looked so thick and textured and coarse, but when Mishima shakily drags his fingers through the curls, the locks flow smooth and soft against his skin.

Mishima’s even harder now, somehow. He twitches deeper into Ren’s perfect mouth, who makes a guttural soft noise, and Mishima instantly pulls back. “I’m – I’m sorry, was that –”

But Ren doesn’t let him finish, stroking his hand up and down his spit-slick hardness. “It’s perfect,” Ren says, the breath of his words alighting on the wet, sensitive skin and making his dick twitch in Ren’s hand. “You taste delicious. Use me however you want. I’m yours for the night.”

The deep hum of his voice cuts through Mishima’s nerves, leaving a buzzing tingling instead. Letting out a low, long, vibrato sigh, Mishima runs the pads of his fingers along Ren’s scalp, and he closes his eyes and leans into the touch. If he could, he’d bet he’d be purring like that cat he always used to carry around. _Yours for the night._ A feeling washes over him that he’s never felt before. _Powerful._ He’s… he’s with Ren right now. _Ren!_ The ex-leader of the Phantom Thieves! Savior of Tokyo! Kneeling between his legs, stroking his dick, looking at him like he’s a prize, a feast, pupils black on black and, and he said he could… _use_ him, it’s…

Mishima juts his hips forward, brushing the tip of his cock against Ren’s soft lips, who opens them immediately and wraps them back around Mishima’s full length. Then, just once, just to test, he gives in to his instincts and thrusts into that tight heat.

Ren’s eyelids flutter, but that’s the only noticeable change in him as his throat tightens perfectly around his cock. Mishima lets out an uncontrolled, undignified whimper, and he starts inexpertly, erratically pushing himself in and out of that inviting hole. Ren opens his mouth even wider, letting Mishima control how fast, how hard, and he doesn’t seem to care that Mishima doesn’t really know what to do, that he moves in sharp, uncoordinated jerks, making stupid embarrassing sounds that are still audible over the slick filthy noises of Ren gulping in air around the cock in his mouth. Sometimes, his voice vibrates along Mishima’s skin when he makes an especially hard thrust, or he nods his head encouragingly when Mishima finds a temporary rhythm.

“Ren,” Mishima whines, twisting his fingers in Ren’s hair tightly, making Ren inhale sharply through his nose. He must like that, Mishima thinks, and pulls a little harder to feel Ren slacken somewhat under him. Fuck. Fuck he feels _so good,_ so powerful, so in control for the first time in his life! “Ren… Ren, you – do you like this?” He’s heard the dirty talk people say to each other in hentai and porn, and he’s not sure he likes stuff like that, but with Ren he feels like he can try anything, do anything, and Ren, his friend, will be okay with it, will tell him if it’s dumb and not to say that but maybe, more likely, he’ll be into it too? “You’re… you’re really good at this. You really are… you have a lot of experience, huh?”

Ren squeezes his eyes shut and he worries he’s embarrassing Ren, but his voice crawls up his chest and meets Mishima’s cock pumping in and out between his inviting lips, another deep noise he feels more than hears. And it feels so good! Ren’s moaning, _for him!_ He’s like Mishima’s own personal vibrator or something, mixed with a… a fleshlight or something, did they make those? If they do they’d never be able to compare to how good Ren feels. Everything he does just explodes heat and light and stars in his head, and an ember sparks to life in his groin.

It seems only right to warn Ren, to tell him before he… “Ren, I’m, you’re gonna make me –” But way too fast, everything stops. Ren pops off his cock, making Mishima cry out, hips jerking into empty air instead of tight warmth, and the light and stars flare too bright, leaving him dazed and blinking and head throbbing. “Wh… why…?” he croaks. Ren slips his hands from his head and stands, pressing a messy dripping kiss to Mishima’s mouth. Impulsively, he jerks away – it’s a gross sensation, Ren’s soaking wet face meeting his, even though he knows it’s like that because he was, he was _drooling_ for him, and that’s hot, but why did he stop…

“We’re not done,” he hisses huskily into Mishima’s ear, and he bites down a yelp. Right. The realization makes his erection wilt a little. Ren probably wants to… with him. Yeah. Well, this might be fun too, right? It’s gotta be fun?

“Yeah, yeah,” Mishima agrees, trying to mentally change gears. It felt nice to put his dick in something, it only makes sense Ren gets a turn, right? He kind of hopes Ren doesn’t want his dick sucked, it seems like it could be uncomfortable, and what if he gags? “I guess… the desk?” He glances behind him. Ren raises an eyebrow and shrugs.

“If you want.”

And he _struts_ over to the desk, shedding his ripped mesh shirt on the way and dropping it on the floor. Mishima could already see everything, but the reveal of Ren’s full torso, the unobscured planes of skin along his back, the outline of his ribs, the lean toned muscles of his shoulders, makes him wrap his arms around himself to steady himself. _Still can’t believe I’m hard for a dude,_ he grumps silently.

Ren hops onto the edge of the desk, popping open the button on the front of his pants. Weird angle. Does he want Mishima to… bend in front of him or something? Ren beckons him closer with one finger. “Well, don’t be shy now,” he says with a grin.

Gulping air, Mishima takes a few steps closer. “Do you… want me to get naked?”

“If you want.”

Okay. He’ll need his boxers all the way off then, he supposes, so he struggles to pull them down and steps out of them. And standing there with no pants or underwear feels super weird with a shirt on, so he takes the T-shirt off too.

And… now what?

He waits for Ren to tell him to do something, to… assume the position, or whatever, but he just sits there, head cocked to the side, a quizzical furrow digging between his eyes the longer he stands there and lets his erection fade. Ren’s eyes flick between his legs.

“Not feeling it anymore?”

Just the little bit of attention makes it perk up a bit. “No, I mean I am, I mean I’m… just… what do we do next?”

Ren’s beatific smile wiggles down and settles in Mishima’s gut. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Mishima bites his lip. “Isn’t there like… stuff, we need to do first?”

Then his face gets downright wicked. “Don’t worry, I don’t need it.”

What does _that_ mean? “I mean… don’t I…? I mean, I’ve never done this before…”

“It’s easy,” Ren says like it really is that simple. He unzips his fly and pulls down those (tight, _tight_ _)_ pants and Mishima gasps when he sees there’s _nothing underneath but skin._ And Ren is already hard, from doing nothing but sucking Mishima’s dick. “Just like you did with my mouth.”

Huh? But he was… isn’t he…? “I’m… with you? Not the other way around?”

Ren’s eyebrows vanish into his messy fringe, pausing long enough to make Mishima sweat. “Did you. Want me to fuck _you_?”

“I –” His voice is way too high, probably a pitch only dogs could hear. Wow, this would be easier to do if they weren’t both naked, huh? “I just… assumed? Do you want me to… instead?”

Ren tries and fails to keep a grin off his face. “I mean. If you want? But I assumed you’d rather be the one putting it in. Especially if you’re a virgin _everywhere._ ” How does Mishima have enough blood left to blush this hard?! “We’d have to take some time to get you used to it, and… I think you’d rather do it another way. That’s what you went looking for in Shinjuku to start with, right?” Yeah, if he’s being honest, he wasn’t exactly looking for… _that_ when he decided on his master plan. Okay, yeah, he can do this, probably. Just like his mouth, he said? Should be… should be fine.

Ren plants both feet on the desk, tilting his hips up, and suddenly Mishima _sees_ exactly where Ren wants him to… oh _fuck._ Obviously, he’s never seen… someone’s _ass_ before, hadn’t even thought about it as an option before, and then it’s just, right there, puckered and already shiny like it’s wet and… actually a really pretty, rosy pink color. Mishima can’t move, totally frozen, but he feels his dick perk up, knowing finally where it’s going.

“Please, Yuuki,” and Ren’s voice pitches into a needy, throaty whimper. “Please fuck me.”

And Mishima can’t take it anymore, stepping up to Ren and grabbing his hips, that rush of power filling his head. Not only did he get to stick it in the Phantom Thief’s mouth, but… but here, too, he gets to actually have _sex_ with him, and Ren is pleading for it like he actually _wants_ Mishima’s cock. He lines himself up, gripping the base and pushing the head between his legs, clumsy, desperate, wanting to feel what it’s like to have someone else’s heat wrapped around him, to feel _Ren_ wrapped around him. But he just can’t make it fit. He thrusts up against his hole, but keeps slipping past it, under it, never going _in._ Eventually, Ren’s hand closes around his, and he helps position Mishima until he can finally align to his hole properly. When the cockhead finally _finally_ pops past that slick tight ring, Mishima’s legs clamp up and he barely resists the urge to just bury himself fully in Ren, almost comes immediately but holds himself back with eyes shut tight.

“Yuu~ki,” Ren exhales on a blissful note, with something almost like relief. “Fuck, Yuuki, _yes._ Please, keep fucking me!”

He… he likes it. Mishima’s _inside of Ren_ and he _likes_ it. And of course, Mishima feels so good he has to bite the inside of his cheek to control himself. Ren made him feel so good earlier, he feels like he could just go off any second. Ren’s _incredible._ So impossibly tight, tighter than he’d ever imagined, tighter than his fist had ever felt, and hotter, and somehow so slick and smooth. “Did you… do something down here?” he pants, trying to distract himself from how bad he wants to come already.

Not helped by Ren grinding down on him, shifting the angle of his hips like he’s trying to reveal even more of himself, like Mishima needs an excuse to be more turned on. “I told you,” he whispers, peering up at him through dark lashes. “I didn’t want to be alone tonight. So I prepared in advance.”

It was like… he was waiting for Mishima. He knows that’s impossible, they met entirely by chance. But Ren was looking for someone, and Mishima was looking for someone… getting this chance to be with him is like destiny, fate, like they were meant to be. “Ren,” Mishima pleads, practically doubling over, overwhelmed by an urge to just wrap his arms around the other man. Ren puts his hand on his chest, helping keep him upright.

“Yuuki,” Ren’s small voice shoots right to his dick, pulsing just inside of him. “Please, please fuck me, split me open on your cock –”

An unholy sounds rips from Mishima’s throat, the words boiling his brains from the inside out, and he pulls Ren hard onto his dick, pushing even deeper into that tight, tight hole, and Ren’s walls clench in glee around his full length. Mishima’s still barely holding on, burying his fingers into Ren’s hips, making him whine and wiggle like he’s never felt anything better. “Yes!” he wails, throwing his head back dramatically and trying to fuck himself harder against Mishima. “Your nails, _fuck_ yes, scratch me up, leave your mark on me…”

Grunting with exertion, Mishima pulls out a little bit, even the slow, stilted slide agonizing on his throbbing overstimulated dick. “You really… like that?”

Ren nods frantically, eyes shut, blocking out the world except for Mishima. “Yes, Yuuki! You feel so good!”

“Good…” Mishima murmurs, then pushes back inside all the way, to the beautiful chorus of Ren’s moans. “Good,” he repeats, deciding to go a little faster when he’s adjusted and doesn’t feel like he’s going to blow his load any second. “I… I make you feel good. You like this, don’t you, Ren?”

“I do,” he cries out, pushing up with his feet to meet Mishima’s increased speed. “I love your cock, Yuuki, you feel amazing!”

Confidence swirls in his head, mixing with the hazy fog of pleasure, rubbing together like flint and tinder, igniting that spark inside him into a flame, growing bright and hot and swelling up through his body. Not a loser, he tells himself, shoving into Ren hard like he likes, getting drunk on his wanton cries. Not pathetic, not a nobody, certainly not a _virgin_ anymore, either! For someone like Ren to look like this, face flushed and shining with a sheen of sweat, his lean body bent over for him, rocking in time to the thrusts into his body, mumbled little desperate pleas of _faster_ and _harder_ blocking out the wet fleshy sounds as his thighs hit Ren’s buttocks... it’s all because of Mishima, _him,_ fucking Ren like he’s the best he’s ever had!

“Am I –” he chokes out, tries to stop himself for a second before the heat of that fire burns down all his walls and inhibitions. “I’m… the best, right? That you’ve ever had?”

Ren’s eyes crack open, fogged and hazy with lust so he can’t even focus on him, looking at something over Mishima’s shoulder. “The best,” he slurs out. “Yuuki, your cock is the best I’ve ever had!”

That’s it, that does it, everything swallowed up by pleasure zinging from his dick to his brain, and he can’t think, can’t speak, just groans pathetically as he comes helplessly into Ren’s body, humping into him desperately to wring out every last drop of pleasure.

He’s not sure how long he waits there, twitching, reminding himself to breathe after the best orgasm he’s had in his whole life. The sensation of small, delicate fingers carding through his hair jolts him into awareness so hard he nearly slips out of Ren, and he’s not quite ready to let go yet.

“Congratulations,” Ren purrs, pulling him down to give him a lazy kiss. “How’s it feel to not be a virgin anymore?”

“Amazing,” he answers without hesitation. “You’re… Ren, you’re _amazing._ ” The depth of his feelings crawl up his chest, and he wants to tell him, let him know how much this means, that Ren would do this for him, how much he enjoyed it and… and maybe, do it again, but Ren’s already sitting up, cupping his face and looking at him with such kind, soft eyes.

“I know,” he says cheekily. “But you must be tired after all that, right? You should get home and get some sleep.”

That… wilts some of the post-sex glow. He’s… kicking him out already? He glances down and sees Ren still has a hard-on that he hasn’t done anything about. He’s not really excited about touching a dick, but isn’t it rude to just… fuck and run?

Ren sees where he’s looking and laughs. Since his cock is still inside, he can feel the way the laugh echoes through his body, clenching tight and choking another moan from Mishima. “Don’t worry about me,” he says with a wink. “If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss the last train.”

Shit, was it that late already? And… it’s not like he can stay here. Ren already said he keeps _this_ part of his life separate. He’s grateful Ren even took him to his own apartment. “Oh… okay. If you’re sure.” It still feels weird, but he _is_ tired, and he probably needs to get home. “Ren… thanks. Really. That was… amazing.”

“ _You_ were amazing,” he responds with a lazy smile, but still doesn’t seem to be focusing on him.

Flushing with pride, Mishima quickly pulls his clothes back on and shoulders his bag. “Well… if that’s all. I’ll… see you later?”

Ren waves him off, closing his eyes like he’s just going to fall asleep on the desk. Weird. Well. That’s it. He leaves, slipping out of Ren’s apartment and navigating back to the station, awash in the glowing confidence that his first time was with the notorious leader of the Phantom Thieves. That for once in his life, he was _the best._

* * *

Ren stays in the office, leaning up on the desk, legs splayed and cum pooling out of him, for what must have been at least fifteen minutes. Probably how long it took Goro to remember how to get back to their apartment after watching the feed from his hotel down the road. When he has to go out of town for his ‘work,’ he usually doesn’t tell Ren exactly when he leaves or when he’s coming back, and frankly Ren doesn’t want to know. He knows his boyfriend is back when he leaves the camera and tripod on the kitchen table, leaving Ren with a flurry of excitement and arousal at what it means.

The exact details of their arrangement were never discussed, never specified. Ren got irritated one day at Goro being gone, and he was lonely, so he fucked some random in their room. But Goro had come home early and saw them, and instead of being mad, thought it was hot. So he started leaving these clues around, until they had a full system worked out. Ren sets the camera up in a hidden place – this time in Goro’s office, peeking through the shutters of the closet door. Then he goes prowling for someone looking for a good time. Ren even turned it into a tidy little side hustle, earning a bit of money from their game.

Ren leans back, stroking his cock lazily and dipping his fingers into the cooling puddle of cum under him to use as lube, just in case Goro’s still watching. Closes his eyes and really gets into the mood, panting and arching his back and moaning, using Mishima’s name just to fuck with Goro. There’s no hard, set rules to their game, but Ren decided to never come for any of the people he finds, wanting to save that pleasure for his boyfriend. So when he gets close, he slows down, dragging out his pleasure until he’s whining and begging himself, licking bitter seed-coated fingers and rutting his hips in the air.

“You really are a whore, aren’t you?”

Goro’s voice warms Ren down to his toes. The words are harsh, but the tone is almost impressed, a little breathy. What, did he _run_ here? Or was he busy enjoying himself, rubbing one out at the sight of his debauched boyfriend?

Ren cracks his eyes open at Goro, standing in the doorway. Just like he left, over a week ago: crisp black pants with a crease down the leg sharp enough to cut, white button-up with the sleeves rolled up, hands back in his black gloves, hair loosely tied back.

“Did you like the show?” Ren purrs, undulating his hips to fuck luxuriously into his own fist.

“You really outdid yourself this time, didn’t you?” And the lowness of his voice, the dangerous tingle zings down his skin, raising shivers and goosebumps. The voice of the killer he knows Goro to be. “Have you fucked all the strangers in Tokyo, so now you’re fucking your friends, too? I mean, I was impressed you got that airsoft ex-yakuza thug in bed, but _that_ kid? Your little fanboy from school, who ran the Phantom Thieves website?”

Goro still hasn’t moved, glaring at Ren with lingering heat and anger that Ren knows is just masking the arousal from the humiliation of it all. That’s why Yuuki was so perfect for his game, even if he does feel a smidge bad about using him without his consent. At least he had a good time. “Yuuki’s a good boy,” Ren teases with a lascivious wink. “ _Very_ eager. Such a sweet little fuck –”

That finally compels Goro to move, storming through the office until he can run his gloved hand up Ren’s bare chest and close it loosely around his throat. Ren gasps and melds into his touch, eyelashes already fluttering. “That can’t have been enough for you,” Goro’s dark voice sings through his head. “I saw how quickly he finished. Him and his pathetic little dick, a whore like you probably barely even felt it.”

The insults swim into Ren’s brain like a warm rush, and he keens, pumping his hardening cock even faster. “He’s not so bad,” he breathes out, leaning in to scent the lingering foreignness of Goro’s collar: rental car leather, hotel room staleness, busy night air. “Was so sweet to me, too, probably ready to confess his love for me after one go.”

The hand on his throat tightens, and Ren’s words choke off into whimpers. “Is that what you want?” Goro asks, _so_ kindly. “A sweet fumbling boy who blows his messy load after three pumps? Who tells you he loves you, praises you for how good you are?”

Ren squirms under Goro, pupils swallowed black into black. Both his hands meet Goro’s against his throat – not to fight back, but to keep him from pulling away. “No,” Ren gasps out. “I want… _you._ ”

Three gloved fingers plunge into Ren’s hole without warning, and he’d squeal at the too-fast intrusion except Goro squeezes the sides of his neck beautifully, leather creaking, and his brain is all of a sudden too preoccupied with hypoxia to worry about wasting his oxygen. _Goro,_ he mouths, scrabbling to cling to that wide hand around his neck, fingernails digging in. _Goro, yes!_

“See what I mean?” Goro grunts, thrusting rough and hard inside Ren, making him squeak out small sounds of ecstasy. The gloves catch inside him, wetness of cum not sufficient lube to keep Ren from feeling the harsh rubbing friction. “You just got fucked and you’re still so tight. That little prick couldn’t really give you what you need, could it? Go on, tell me what you need.”

Loosening his fingers just enough to give Ren a dizzying rush of blood and oxygen and heat back to his head, Ren bears down onto Goro’s hand, wanting more. “You,” he slurs, staring right at him with foggy eyes. “Need you, always you, need you to fuck me with that big cock…”

“Desperate,” Goro mocks, though the harshness of his tone is undercut by his own somewhat frantic fumbling with his belt buckle. A few locks of short hair slip from the ponytail to frame his face. “Don’t give me the same words you use with everyone else. I know the kind of lies you can weave with that slutty mouth of yours.” Dropping his pants, Goro shoots him a vicious smile. “Go on, give me the same thing you gave _him._ But I’m going to make you work for it.”

Regrettably, Goro lets his fingers slip out of Ren as he slides off the desk, going to his knees in front of his boyfriend. He opens his mouth like a dutiful whore, but instead of feeding him his cock, Goro swipes his covered fingers through the puddle of cum still left on _his_ desk (the audacity). “Lift up your head,” Goro demands, and again, Ren silently obeys, tilting his head back, mouth open, tongue outstretched. The cum dribbles from Goro’s fingers into Ren’s waiting mouth, and like a good boy he doesn’t retract his tongue or close his mouth, letting the pearlescent white slowly crawl down his flexing tongue, deeper and deeper into his mouth. “Now swallow,” Goro tells him before he can get too far into his trachea and actually choke him. Ren does as commanded, swallowing hard even with his neck so tightly stretched back. Goro watches the bob of his throat with a heated gaze.

“How does he taste?” Goro shoves the rest of his dirtied fingers into Ren’s mouth, making sure he licks the leather clean. Of course, he can’t answer now, sucking greedily at Goro’s fingers, but he hums in a needy pitch that sets Goro’s skin ablaze. “Better than me?”

At that, Ren frantically shakes his head no, curls flying over his ears and nose and eyes. Goro laughs. He’s like a puppy, desperate to please. “No? How can you be sure if you haven’t had a taste side by side?” With his free hand, he grips the base of his cock, squeezing and pumping slightly to keep the blood flowing to his purpling glans while extracting his fingers from between Ren’s lips.

Ren doesn’t need more encouragement than that, and he moves to Goro, swallowing him down just as easily as he had Mishima. But unlike that inexperienced, unworthy shit, Goro knows what to do with Ren, how he likes to be used. He fists his hands tight into his messy, sweat-matted hair and slams home. The involuntary gurgling nose wetly sounding from the back of Ren’s throat is as sweet and lovely as the first time he heard a jazz saxophone playing the changes. Other than the noise, Ren shows no other signs of distress, eyelids loosely closed and mouth open and inviting. His own cock stands heavy and dripping between his knees.

Goro rocks in once, as deep as he can go, suffocating Ren on his length and jamming his nose against his pelvic bone. He considers holding him there, just for a few seconds, to feel the panicked convulsions of his throat as he struggles to stay relaxed and calm. After all, this is as much about punishment as his own gratification. But he’s too on edge for that – not close to coming, Ren doesn’t get it _that_ easy – but more that, he lacks the control to ever let him breathe again if he starts playing that game.

So he pulls out, to Ren’s instinctive, deep breath of relief, dragging himself along the ridges and sharp-edged teeth of his mouth. For just one quick, fleeting second, Goro allows himself to marvel at Ren, his lover of who knows how many years, maybe the one person in this whole fucking world who could possibly understand him. Who doesn’t judge him when he’s chasing after the shattered remnants of his father’s support, when he needs time apart because their shared spaces have closed in on him, choking, trapping. Who never minds when he vanishes without a word and returns without warning. And who somehow invented this game they now play, which brings them both such joy. Ren really is perfect, and a glance at the dark eyelashes against his cheek, wet lips stretched around his width, pretty little blush high on his cheeks, only confirms what he already knows.

Ren is perfect, and he’s even more so when he accepts without flinching the forceful thrust of Goro’s cock back in his mouth. Gripping his hair, Goro pulls him in at the same time as he jerks his hips forward, hitting the slippery damp wall of Ren’s throat at every stroke. The way he convulses around him with each swallow, the synchronous glossolalia accompanying each movement, Ren’s serene, eager body language leaning in to him, relaxing into it, face smooth and undistorted; he knows only he can draw this from Ren. “Only me,” he grunts in affirmation, fucking into Ren’s face like a machine specially built to breed his mouth over and over again. “Only with me, are you this eager, this perfectly obedient.” The whine of Ren’s agreement flutters through Goro’s mind, ratcheting his pleasure to another degree. He can’t stop the words tumbling from his mouth as he fucks Ren’s face with relentless stamina.

“You miss me when I’m gone, don’t you? That’s why you chase after every pathetic piece of ass or dick you can find. You just need someone – you need _me_ to fill you up, give you the satisfaction you crave, isn’t that right, Joker?” He doesn’t wait for an answer – Ren’s spluttering breaths reveal his lack of coherence. “You really are reckless. You don’t even mind that it’s me, do you? Don’t care what a murderer like me does to the pure and righteous savior of Tokyo –” Ren’s whine pitches up in tone, crackling and broken. The fact he can respond at all means he’s not giving it to him hard enough. He slows his thrusts, staying deep in his throat and moving in sharp, hard bursts, never quite letting him get a lungful of oxygen. “You just go to your knees for me right away, like the good little whore that you are…”

Goro slows to nothing as Ren’s voice breaks on a thick jumbled cry, eyes squeezing tight and hips jerking erratically in the air. His cock bounces with several hard tremors and twitches, although nothing more a sad little dribble of precum beads on the tip and rolls down. Goro yanks Ren off his dick by the hair, and his mouth is a fucked ruin. Ren can barely focus his eyes, and they’re centered somewhere above Goro’s right eyebrow.

“What, that made you come?” Goro gasps out, trying to sound mocking like before but unable to keep the awed arousal from his tone. “You like being told how good you are?” Ren nods so fast he might give himself whiplash. “If you want to be even better,” he hisses, cupping Ren’s face lovingly and re-angling him so he can focus on at least one of Goro’s eyes, “clean that prick’s remnants from your ass, then _maybe_ I’ll fuck your lights out.”

Jumping to shaky, unsteady legs, Ren leans his chest on the desk and immediately reaches behind himself, shoving two fingers in his hole without preamble. Goro watches with intense arousal, how Ren buries himself up to the third knuckle, still a little slick, and starts to scissor himself open, letting the last of Mishima’s cum spool down his taint and the back of his balls. It’s disgusting, knowing he let that little shit have this. Oh well. He just needs to remind Ren what a good and proper fuck actually feels like.

When it seems like he’s all emptied out, Goro grabs lube from the desk drawer and slicks up his cock with it, hissing at the touch of leather on his own skin. He doesn’t need any more prep after Mishima. Goro’s fingers know Ren’s body better than any random fuck or old high school fanboy ever would. Pulling Ren away from his own ass, he rests his hand on Ren’s hip and guides himself in with the other. As he pushes through slack resistance to Ren’s tense breathing, he remembers. His gloved hand smooths over the front of Ren’s hip, imagining the halfmoon crescents Mishima must have left when he grabbed Ren and fucked him so inexpertly. He smooths his palm over the curve of bone and the hollow under the stretched skin, imagining he can smooth away the ungrateful touch.

“You’re _mine,_ ” Goro snarls, and shoves himself the rest of the way inside. Ren wails in pleasure, pushing up against Goro’s pelvis, trying to fuck himself even harder. “No pathetic fanboy can compare to me, can he?” Goro slaps the meat of Ren’s ass, the crack of flesh and the growing red blossom both feeding and soothing his jealous ego.

“No one,” Ren blurrily answers, “no one… as good…”

He slaps Ren’s other cheek, and he mewls helplessly. “That’s right.” Goro’s seething now, teeth on edge, his skin on fire. Ren’s loose and wet from someone else, squeezing his cock like he’s trying to swallow him, keep him here forever. Might not be a bad idea. Whatever’s left of that needy little prick, that unworthy fool who didn’t know what he had, Goro’s going to fuck all his remains from Ren’s lithe, beautiful body until it can’t be satisfied with anything but _him._

Goro sets a brutal, punishing pace, pounding in to him with wet _thwaps_ and the occasional swat of his ass. The heat, the friction, Ren’s sweet voice crying out for _more_ and _harder_ and _please_ only push him even further. This is more than chasing his own gratification; Goro barely even acknowledges the heat of his own arousal, the swell of pleasure. No, this is about Ren, it’s _always_ about Ren, always the game, always at a distance, wanting to pull Ren inside of himself and keep him in a cage but also refusing to ever let someone get so close. Their push and pull, like the slide of their bodies together, lingers in unreality, eternally knotted with pain and pleasure, an ouroboros of psychosexual traps and pitfalls. He hates it. He loves it. He hates Ren, loves Ren.

“Goro,” Ren begs under him, legs shaking, cock aching red and bouncing at every thrust. “Pl...ease…”

“Please _what.”_ He’s too in his head, too wrapped about his own thoughts and complexes about Ren to even guess what he’s asking for. He might be disappointed with himself if he had any capacity to think outside of the clutch of Ren’s body.

That body tightens and steals Goro’s breath away, and he lingers on his last thrust, grinding into Ren’s body. “Come,” Ren begs. “Come in me.”

“What, you think it’s that easy?” Goro pulls himself out, the roughness making them both flinch. For just a second, Ren’s hole gapes, red and open for him, before winking back closed, and Goro secretly tightens his fist around the root of his cock to hold back his orgasm. “If you want cum so bad, there’s still some on the desk.” _His_ desk, he thinks again ruefully. “Clean it up yourself.”

Goro watches the shiver crawl up Ren’s back and chases it into his hair, grabbing those curls with his free hand and shoving Ren’s nose to the crusting-over white stain. Ren’s tongue lolls from his mouth. With Goro’s helpful guidance, Ren laps at the drying smear of cum, cleaning it with neat little kitten-licks until nothing is left but the sheen of his saliva.

“You’ll do anything anyone tells you to do, won’t you?” Goro mocks, not really expecting an answer.

But he gets one anyway. “Just you.” Two whispered words that strike into Goro more deeply than any dirty talk or affirmations of love ever could.

“On the desk,” he orders, surprised by the strain in his voice. “Like you were before.”

Ren climbs back on the desk, carefully turning around to avoid knocking anything over, and Goro finally gets a good look at his face. Spit dribbles down his chin, lips shiny and red. A flush dances high on his soft features, eyeliner and mascara smeared to dark raccoon marks under his eyes, which burn with a low, hungry fire. Goro freezes. He can’t help himself. Ren’s words ricochet in his skull. _Just you. Just you._

Like he needs any more encouragement, Ren, gripping under his knees, holds up his legs in the air to expose his hole again, flexing and clenching around nothing. His cock rests heavy and full on his belly. “Please, Goro,” he begs once again. “Fuck me, fuck me until you come.”

 _Shit!_ Goro puts his hands over Ren’s, shoving his flexible legs back even further, and plunges inside, meeting no resistance. Now the sounds of skin on skin resound with the clattering of the desk as Goro puts his back, arms, and legs into each thrust, along with Ren’s frantic pleas. Goro watches as he pulls himself almost all the way out of Ren, muscles stretching and straining around his length, then he vanishes back inside, all the way to the hilt, and Ren screams each time, his legs fighting Goro’s grip now to try to wrap around his body.

The feeling’s too incredible for words. Ren’s _made_ for him, perfectly molded to accept his cock in every possible way, from his hand to his mouth to his ass. There’s no part of him Goro doesn’t own, hasn’t touched and explored to their full hidden depths. And Ren knows it, too, the way his body clings to every thrust, how he chases every retreat trying to hold him in. Goro’s body is exhausted, but he never slows, fucking Ren with everything he has, and now _all_ he can think about is his pleasure. Ren’s face contorting, Ren’s chest heaving, the attractive sway of his cock – which this whole time, even before, Ren hasn’t touched, even though he’s already come dry once.

Ren is everywhere, in sight, touch, sound, smell, even taste. Their life together, enclosed by these very apartment walls, traps him in, just like Ren’s legs, Ren’s heat, Ren’s mouth. A moan spills from Goro’s lips, desperation stuttering his rhythm. He’s utterly _trapped_ by Ren is every way, without a single lock or cage to be seen, and as much as he thinks he hates it, the building pressure in his body couldn’t be more relieved.

“Who is the best you’ve ever had?” Goro snarls, leaning forward to bite Ren’s collarbone so hard he yelps and jerks away – or tries to, anyway. “Don’t fucking lie to me, either. Tell me! Does _anybody_ else – even – _compare_?!”

“It’s you!” Ren screams, with none of the over-the-top theatrics he used for Mishima, voice cracking on the high note. “Only you, it’s only ever you, Goro! _Please!_ ”

It’s the _only you_ that does him in, as it always is. Maybe someday, he can believe it.

When he comes, he latches on to the side of Ren’s neck, sucking in a bruise so hard that everyone passing by will know just who Ren belongs to. His hips spasm into Ren’s pliant body, making sure every drop of his seed lands inside him, overpowering whatever pitiful whiffs might still remain. Exhausted and hunched over Ren, he can’t even help out as Ren finally touches himself, hands wiggling between their bodies to jerk his cock in short, hard spasms, an endless stream of _fuck yes_ es lilting on the air, and in no time at all Ren’s whines hit a fever pitch and finally crest into a wordless cry as hot liquid pools between their abdomens.

It takes a while to recover, both of them lying there, limp and sweaty and sated. Eventually, Ren taps Goro’s hip with his foot, and slowly, reluctantly, he pulls away, wishing he had a plug to keep his spend inside of Ren forever. He can’t look at the way it pools out of him.

Ren cracks his back as he stands up, working out the aching joint in his body, but still surprisingly spry for all the work they just did. “How long are you in town for?” Ren asks casually, like he’d just walked through the door. Goro presses one finger against the still-damp bruise on the side of Ren’s neck. A thousand thoughts race through his mind, lingering on some of the more strange, possessive impulses from the heat of their fucking. The desire to stay with Ren. The real anger that creeps in when they play their game.

“I’ll stay until this fades,” Goro promises softly. “And then… maybe a while after that.” It’s the best he can do, but the message seems to get across, because Ren’s eyes brighten. He leans in and kisses him, and it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it folx! Seven fics, seven days. This was such a blast, I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thornofthelily) if you are so inclined to hear more from me.


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